• • •

Today, as we look as this familiar story about the Magi bringing their gifts to the baby Jesus, I would like to invite us to think about three kings — but they are not the three kings you might imagine.

Adoration of the Magi, Fredi

MATTHEW 2:1-15 (KNT)

When Jesus was born, in Bethlehem of Judaea, at the time when Herod was king, some wise and learned men came to Jerusalem from the east. “Where is the one,” they asked, “who has been born to be king of the Jews? We have seen his star rising in the east, and we have come to worship him.”

When King Herod heard this, he was very disturbed, and the whole of Jerusalem was as well. He called together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, and inquired from them where the Messiah was to be born.

“In Bethlehem of Judaea,” they replied. “That’s what it says in the prophet:

‘You, Bethlehem, in Judah’s land
Are not least of Judah’s princes;
From out of you will come the ruler
Who will shepherd Israel my people.’”

Then Herod called the wise men to him in secret. He found out from them precisely when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem. “Off you go,” he said, “and make a thorough search for the child. When you find him, report back to me, so that I can come and worship him too.”

When they heard what the king had said, they set off. There was the star, the one they had seen rising in the east, going ahead of them! It went and stood still over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were beside themselves with joy and excitement. They went into the house and saw the child, with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him. They opened their treasure-chests and gave him presents: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

They were warned in a dream not to go back to Herod. So they return to their own country by a different route.

After the Magi had gone, suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “and take the child, and his mother, and hurry off to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to hunt for the child, to kill him.”

So he got up and took the child and his mother by night, and went off to Egypt. He stayed there until the death of Herod. This happened to fulfill what the Lord said through the prophet:

Out of Egypt I called my son.

Change is hard. Of course, changes are happening in our lives and in our world all the time. Part of what it means to be human and to be Christian is to learn to be flexible, to adapt to change, to grow and develop in faith, hope, and love through all the different seasons and circumstances in life.

Major change is especially hard. When life itself seems to go in a different direction from the way it has been proceeding, we struggle to accept the new ways.

I often work on the east side of Indianapolis. After WWII, Indy’s east side was the place to be. Major manufacturing companies had their plants there. People moved from places where there was no work, settled there and prospered. They built houses, neighborhoods, churches, and entire communities. They raised their kids there. They had good lives.

Then, in the 1970’s and 80’s, things began to change. As our economy gradually shifted from manufacturing to an information and service economy, as deregulation broke up major businesses like the phone company, as corporations began to look for other places in the world where they could make their products using cheaper labor, life changed. Many folks on Indy’s east side relocated, workers grew older and retired, plants closed, strangers moved in to the neighborhoods — things changed. Many of the older folks I visit each day struggle with that. They lament the changes. The pictures on their mantles reflect what were to them happier, more secure days. Some of them have become bitter.

Change is hard. Major change is especially hard. And especially when it threatens our way of life.

Pharaoh's Daughter Finds Moses, Pouisson

Today, we come to the story of the Magi, or the Wise Men, and their visit to Jesus. We all remember that these are the men from the east who saw Jesus’ star in the sky and were led to Bethlehem, where they gave precious gifts to the Christ-child.

It’s also the story of King Herod, who became threatened by Jesus’ birth. He is one of the kings I want us to consider today.

Matthew has included this story about Jesus’ birth in his Gospel and shaped it to show that Jesus is the new Moses who has come to set his people free. But just as Moses had to face the wrath of angry and cruel kings in order to lead the Exodus, even so Jesus had to endure the opposition of this world’s rulers in order to set us free.

Before we talk about King Herod, let’s go back to the story of Moses and consider a ruler that Herod resembles. That would be Pharaoh. 3500 years ago in Egypt, the Pharaoh and his people faced a troubling time of change. For a long time, his country had relied upon the labor of a group of people named Hebrews. They were immigrants who had relocated to the land in a time of famine. Over the years, they had become slaves to the ruling powers. However, despite their poverty and oppression, the Hebrew people had grown in numbers and strength.

Things were changing and Pharaoh soon had a political problem on his hands. Threatened by the growing Hebrew population, he issued a decree that an entire generation of Hebrew babies should be eliminated. His soldiers carried out the genocide. Some of the children, however, survived, thanks to the faithful protection of their midwives. One of them even found his way into Pharaoh’s own house and was raised there. His name was Moses.

You know that story, don’t you? — how Moses grew up and eventually became the leader that brought the Hebrews out of Egypt, set them free from slavery and exile, established them as God’s covenant people Israel, gave them God’s Law, and led them to the Promised Land.

Now fast forward with me about 1500 years, to Jesus’ day and let’s consider a second king. King Herod was the ruler who oppressed Israel, even while they lived in their own land. Herod the Great was the king the Romans put in place to keep Israel in check. You see, in the lands they conquered, the Romans used local rulers to oversee their affairs, and in Israel Herod was their puppet king.

King Herod

Now fast forward with me about 1500 years. In Jesus’ day, King Herod was the ruler who oppressed Israel. The Jews were living in the same Promised Land. Once more they found themselves under bondage, this time it was under the Romans, the most recent nation to conquer and take charge of the region. Now, in the lands they conquered, the Romans used local rulers to oversee their affairs, and in Israel their puppet king was named Herod.

Herod was a brutal and fickle leader who ruthlessly put down opposition, even to the extent of killing members of his own family. However, Herod was also renowned as the greatest builder Israel had ever known. His crowning achievement was the Temple in Jerusalem, one of the ancient world’s wonders. But even in building the Temple, Herod’s cruelty was evident. To make sure it would be run by people loyal to him, Herod appointed his own High Priest, and put to death 46 rabbis who served in the Sanhedrin.

Herod, this wicked puppet king of Rome, was driven by the desire to stay in power. Given his character, you can imagine how he must have responded when, one day a group of foreign dignitaries came to visit and announced that a new “king of the Jews” had been born. Not happy.

That leads us to consider a third king. As we read this story of the Magi, I believe Matthew wants us to remember another story from the days of Moses.

Before we look at that, let’s ask: Who were these foreigners who came to King Herod? The Bible calls them “Magi;” we know them as the “Wise Men.” They were from lands east of Israel. They were astrologers — people who studied the stars and interpreted signs in the skies. We don’t know how many there were. We speak of the “three Wise Men” because they brought three gifts, but there is no indication in the text of their actual number. The precious gifts they brought may indicate that they were from a royal background.

Matthew includes these visitors from the east in his Gospel story because they are related to people in Moses’ day who lived in the east. When the Israelites drew near the Promised Land, they had to pass through the eastern country of Moab. Moab’s king was named Balak, and like the other kings in our story, he felt his rule threatened by what was happening with the Israelites. So he called a man called Balaam and told him to put a prophet’s curse on them.

If you remember the story, Balaam (who was quite a character, by the way!) ended up blessing Israel instead of cursing them. And in his third and final prophecy, Balaam uttered these words:

“This is the message of Balaam son of Beor,
the message of the man whose eyes see clearly,
the message of one who hears the words of God,
who has knowledge from the Most High,
who sees a vision from the Almighty,
who bows down with eyes wide open:
I see him, but not here and now.
I perceive him, but far in the distant future.
A star will rise from Jacob;
a scepter will emerge from Israel.

It will crush the foreheads of Moab’s people,
cracking the skulls of the people of Sheth.
Edom will be taken over,
and Seir, its enemy, will be conquered,
while Israel marches on in triumph.
A ruler will rise in Jacob
who will destroy the survivors of Ir.”

• Numbers 24:15-19, NLT

There, in a land east of Israel, the prophet saw a royal star rising that marked the coming of Israel’s Messiah. Balaam said that this Ruler would be the one to fulfill God’s promise to Abraham — the promise that God’s blessing will be restored to all the peoples of the world.

These Magi, these Wise Men, these astrologers and foreign dignitaries who came to Herod, were the heirs of Balaam’s prophecy. Gazing at the stars and calculating their alignments, they recognized THE star that Balaam foretold in the days of Moses. The heavens told them that the Messiah had been born, the King who had been promised, the King who would rule the world and restore God’s blessing to everyone. The greatest change in the history of the world was at hand. The Kingdom of God was being inaugurated in this world. This was good news not only for the Jewish people under Roman domination, but for all people. These Gentile, pagan astrologers — an unlikely group of people as there ever was, just like Balaam in the OT — were among the first to announce the coming of God’s King.

However, Herod’s response show us that the birth of the Messiah was not “good news” for everybody. Some saw this as a threat.

• This kind of change was not good news for someone like Herod, who built his empire on self-preservation, cruelty, and injustice.
• As the Gospel story tells us, it was also not good news for people like the scribes and Pharisees in Israel, who built their lives on controlling others through religious rules.
• Nor was it good news for the Sadducees, religious leaders who thought the best way to get along was to compromise with the prevailing culture, even when it contradicted what God required of them.
• Nor was it good news for the Zealots, those Israelites who thought the only way to overcome the Romans and the injustices of the world was through violence and revolution.
• It was not good news for the Romans, who boasted in their own power and might.
• In short, it was not good news for the world, the flesh, and the devil — any of the powers of this age that are aligned against God and his Kingdom — and anyone who lives by their ways.

Change is hard. And it can be extremely threatening, especially when it involves admitting I’ve been going in the wrong direction my whole life and someone comes along and tells me I need to turn around and go the other way.

King Herod, Pharaoh in Egypt, and King Balak in Moses’ day, were three unwise kings, not willing to accept the changes that God was bringing about. So, as today’s story tells us, Herod persecuted Joseph and Mary and the Child. The Holy Family fled, ironically, back to Egypt, to escape his wrath. As Pharaoh had murdered the Hebrew children, so Herod cruelly eliminated the children in the region of Bethlehem. But ultimately, just as God had brought Israel out of Egypt in the Exodus, so, Matthew says, the wicked ruler Herod died and God brought his Son out of Egypt to lead a new exodus of spiritual freedom for all people.

Adoration of the Magi, Bosch (detail)

Those who receive it will begin to experience the greatest change the world has ever known.

• A change by which Jesus overcomes all the powers of sin, evil, and death that trouble this creation.
• This King has come to tear down the cruel and unjust rule of the world, the flesh, and the devil.
• This King has come to introduce a world that is based on God’s values and perspectives, not the ways that currently rule the world.
• This Kingdom is not based on riches or wealth.
• This Kingdom is not about climbing the ladder and getting ahead.
• This Kingdom is not about making life comfortable and secure at the expense of others.
• This Kingdom is not about judging others and considering them unworthy based on outward criteria.
• This King has come to bring God to those who have nothing whatsoever to offer him.

A great change has come with the coming of Jesus the King.

• He has come to create a community called the Church that will worship God and be nourished by the Gospel; a community that will welcome the stranger, care for the needy, visit the sick and oppressed, pray for their enemies, go the extra mile and be willing to suffer as Jesus did so that others might be saved, healed, and blessed.
• He has come to welcome not only the Jews, his chosen people, but also Gentiles like these Magi, outcasts like the Samaritans, sinners like the woman caught in adultery, irreligious people like Matthew the tax collector who wrote this Gospel, prodigal sons who wander far from home, and elder brothers who stay close to home. He will dine with Pharisees and accept prostitutes who wash his feet. He will call ordinary fishermen and ask violent Zealots to join his band of disciples. A King has come who will instruct his followers to go into all nations everywhere and make disciples of all people for his Kingdom.

This changes everything.

• This King who has come shows us that the only way to live is to die, the only way to be exalted is to humble yourself, the only way to prosper is to embrace poverty, the only way to be promoted is to make yourself the servant of all.
• This King has come to bring genuine, lasting love.

This King, Jesus the Messiah, has come to bring change, great change, major change, the greatest change of all. He has come to bring forgiveness of sins. He has come to replace this old creation with a New Creation in which righteousness dwells. And he has come to welcome you and me into this New Creation and to join him in announcing this Kingdom by our words and actions.

Don’t be like Herod when you hear the news that the King has come. Don’t get threatened by the change that has arrived. Don’t resist and try to hold on to your own life, your own little kingdom.

Jesus has come to be your King and mine. He has come to change our lives. Amen.

Dixon, IL United Methodist Church

Today’s Gospel text speaks of a man going on a long journey. The journey that has brought me to this place where I stand today has likewise been long.

Picture in your mind a young boy growing up in the Midwest. His family took him to the Methodist church. He loved being in the sanctuary, in the worship service with his parents. He was fascinated by the brilliant light shining through the stained glass windows. He watched intently as the acolytes carried their flames down the aisle and lit the candles on the altar. There was vivid color and glorious sound as choirs of all ages sang in their different colored robes. When the pastor entered in his black robe, carrying his Bible, he felt solemn. When the minister kneeled at his chair he knew something important was taking place. The wooden pews and furnishings of the church gave off an air of something firm and established. When the pastor spoke, his deep voice was impressive. When the boy went through confirmation and knelt at the altar to receive communion, it was a deep and meaningful experience.

Now, fast forward to a boy in his teens, about to graduate from high school. He had gotten away from the church, had lost the sense of wonder. Unsure of himself and his place in the world, he wandered away from the childlike faith that had caught his imagination. A group of friendly fellow students invited them to their church — a Baptist church. It was known for having altar calls at the end of each Sunday morning service. After a long process of questioning and fighting, he went forward on a bright April morning. The God who had been with him through childhood was still there, and the prodigal came home.

Chaplain Mike, Easter 1965

From that point on, he could not imagine anything he would rather do than follow Jesus and help others follow Jesus. So he went to Bible school and learned. He met a beautiful girl and they married, then moved to a little village in Vermont, where an old white clapboard, steepled Baptist church filled with simple, loving mountain folk welcomed him as their pastor.
And then it was back to seminary, and ministry in a little city Bible church. He soon found himself with a family, four children, and questions about what was next. He tried and tried to become connected with the denomination to which his seminary belonged, but for some reason it never worked out. This was a great disappointment, because one of his goals in going to seminary was to align with a church tradition in which to serve. It didn’t happen.

When decisions could no longer be delayed, the family moved to Indianapolis. There, they became part of a fine non-denominational church. He served for nine years and then was asked to help a church in Franklin. Again they moved, and they remain in that town to this day. But the church in Franklin didn’t work out, and suddenly this minister and his family were without a church and without prospects. This family that had only known the pastoral life and the church as extended family found themselves in a different world, still without a tradition in which they belonged, and now without a church as well.

He and his wife didn’t stop serving Jesus. They had learned enough to know that ministry means more than church work. So he became a hospice chaplain and she a counselor. But they really had no idea what to do about church. After a number of false starts, they found a congregation that welcomed them and encouraged them. Each week, they worshiped, sang in the choir, heard the Word and partook of Christ at the Table. It was a Lutheran Church, and the man gradually came to understand that the tradition he had been looking for his whole life was the tradition that bore the name of Martin Luther.

This is my story. And so I thank you, the good people at Risen Lord Lutheran Church, for being the ones who helped me find my place as a Christian within the Lutheran tradition. You probably had no idea that you were doing this, but that’s OK. I think that the vast majority of our good works are unknown to us. We really have very little idea of how God is using us in the lives of other people. But he is. And so, because God has used you, I have decided that I will begin the process of seeking official ordination in the ELCA. I was ordained by our local Community Church congregation many years ago, but now I will seek a full denominational affiliation, and ask God to continue to lead us to further ministry in the years to come.

• • •

Today’s Gospel encourages us to remember that we serve a good God and an exciting God, who is always working and always calling us to participate with him in his work. In our language, the word “talents” refers to the gifts and abilities God has given us. That word comes from this parable. However, in Jesus’ day, a “talent” was a unit of weight and by extension a unit of money. It was a lot of money, in fact. Most scholars estimate that a talent was worth 15 or 20 years wages. Jesus’ parable says that this master gave one servant 5 talents, another 2, and the third 1 talent. So each received an extravagant amount of money.

And that’s the first thing we learn about God in this story. He is extremely generous! In fact, in 1Cor. 3:21, Paul tells us that “all [things] belong to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.” Everyone’s favorite Psalm, Psalm 23 asserts, “The Lord is my shepherd, I SHALL NOT WANT.” Think of how many breaths God has given you, how many heartbeats, how many steps you’ve walked. Think of how many opportunities have been yours, how many possibilities you have had to explore. Think of all the good and kind people he has brought into your life. Consider how much he has enabled you to learn, and how many challenges he has enabled you to overcome. What experiences you have had! What help you have received in times of need! Think most of all of how he sent his only Son to die and rise again for you, how he has “blessed you with all spiritual blessings in Christ.” He has given us an inheritance that is eternal. Whether he gives you 5 talents, or 2, or 1, his gifts are extravagant and beyond imagination.

Risen Lord Lutheran Church

I couldn’t even begin to recount God’s blessings to me. From parents and grandparents who loved me and provided generously for me, to good health, to wonderful friends, to a remarkable education marked by some of the best teachers in the world, to a gifted and beautiful wife, four great children and three amazing grandchildren, to the Christian fellowship I have had with people in loving churches, to the opportunities we’ve had to travel the world on mission trips, to blessing after blessing after blessing…

There’s just one thing left. If only the Chicago Cubs could win just one World Series while I’m alive…!

The servants in this parable received great gifts, just as you and I have. The master pictured here is just like God our Father, bestowing extravagant riches upon us and entrusting unimaginable resources to our care.

The second lesson I see in this parable is that God wants us to use the lavish resources he gives us by participating with him in his work. You see, these servants were given these riches for a reason. They were servants and that which the master entrusted to them was for the sake of the master’s business. They were not running their own enterprise — their lives belonged to him and they worked for him. The whole purpose of their lives was to increase his profits, to develop his business, to expand his interests.

The first two servants understood this. In fact, the text says they went off “at once” and started using what the master had given them to multiply his investment. I think the point of this part of the parable is that these servants understood their master and his business. They knew he was a man with business savvy, a man who was not afraid to take risks, to put his money to work, to seek out ways of expanding his market share. They knew he was resourceful, creative, imaginative, and courageous. They loved working for a boss like that. They admired his ingenuity and willingness to go out on a limb. They were especially grateful that he had entrusted them with such great sums of money, which they could use to get more involved in his work. And in the end, the master not only said, “Well done.” He also said, “Enter into the joy of your master.” Their relationship with him grew and they experienced the joy of closer fellowship in his presence.

This is where the third servant failed — he misjudged his master. He had been given 1 talent. Now remember, this was still an incredible amount of money — 15-20 years salary! Wouldn’t you like to have someone hand that much cash to you? But what did he do? The text says he buried it. Burying money in those days was like putting it in a safe. This servant was trying to protect his master’s assets, to keep from losing any of his money. He chose the conservative route, the safe play. Out of fear of losing it and being rejected by his boss, he hid it in his mattress.

Jesus’ parable tells us exactly why the third servant did this, and it is meant to be a lesson to us. Here’s what the text says:

Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.”

In my view, this statement is the key to understanding this parable. It shows that the third servant held an entirely different perception of his master than the first two slaves had. Whereas they saw their boss as energetic, resourceful, and risk-taking, the third servant saw him as overly zealous, self-important, and grasping. He saw him as a hard master, one who was driven, maniacal, demanding, and wrapped up in himself; someone who didn’t really have his servants’ best interests in mind.

And so this third slave was afraid to offend the master, afraid that if he took a risk with his money and lost, that the master would punish him without pity. He did not view his master’s gift as generous, but a burden. He did not think of using it to participate in his master’s work; he was afraid that the master had given it to him as some kind of test, and he was afraid he would fail.

So he did the safest thing he could think of — he hid the money so he wouldn’t lose any of it and have to suffer the embarrassment of being a failure.

Therefore, I think that the third point of this parable is that many of us have a completely insufficient view of who God is and what he wants from us. Instead of an extravagant God, who lavishes riches upon us in order that we might enjoy working together with him, we think of him as an insecure miser, who gives grudgingly and is ready to punish us when we make a mistake or try to take a risk with what he gives us. Instead of a God who entrusts us with his resources and invites us to use them in partnership with him as his coworkers, we think of him as only giving us things to test us. We think of him as cruel and hard, a God who delights in setting us up for failure. We imagine that when we fail or fall short, he is just waiting to condemn us and punish us.

In the parable, the master calls that kind of attitude, “wicked and lazy.” I mean, how can we possibly think God is like that? If you read the Bible, and that’s the kind of God you find there, you need to go back and read again. And I would encourage you to keep reading until you hear these words of Jesus:

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

That’s our master! The one with the easy yoke, the light burden. The one who invites us to a place of rest, not fear. The God revealed to us in Scripture is the God of the Apostle Paul, who says we are God’s fellow workers. He has not only forgiven our sins and raised us up to walk in newness of life, but he has entrusted his resources to us and invited us to participate with him as he works in the world to reconcile all creation to himself.

The religious leaders in Jesus’ day did not take that view. They thought God’s Word was something they had to protect. So they hid it under a pile of rules and regulations and religious expectations. They completely overlooked the fact that God entrusts his blessings to us not because he needs someone to guard them, but because he wants them shared and invested throughout the world every day through his people. He wants us to know the joy of working with him for the sake of the world.

I believe that one of the best ways I can do that is by seeking Lutheran ordination so that I can represent this tradition of Christian faith that speaks so well about grace and faith and vocation.

But how will you answer the challenge of this parable?

Our extravagant God has entrusted unimaginable riches to you too. Will you heed his call to participate in his work with him, using the gifts he has given you? Or will you continue to believe that God is a hard taskmaster, waiting to pounce on you for the least mistake? Will you take what you think is the safe way, and bury what God has given you?

I encourage you to look at Jesus. His yoke is easy. His burden is light.

Burying your talents because you’re afraid of God? That will cost you everything.

Serving him? Priceless.

By Chaplain Mike

I like the children’s sermon in a worship service. Many have suggested that adults usually get more out of it than they do the pastor’s sermon! I’ve heard my share of them over the years, good and bad.

The best ones were simple, short, and directed to the imagination.

It’s obviously wise to avoid difficult theological language when speaking to children. Since they are not asking adult questions, little ones don’t need an apologetics course or heavy arguments proving something about Jesus or the Bible. Detailed exegesis of a passage?—no. I don’t think it’s a good idea for adults to be recruiting children to be little evangelists or missionaries. Nor should they be scolded as little sinners or encouraged to become good little law-keepers.

I do think it wise and loving to help kids gain a sense of the wonder and love and acceptance of God. The children’s sermon should fit in with the rest of the service as a celebration of the Gospel. Young boys and girls should be inundated with the Gospel, impressed with the words and stories of Jesus, and made to feel like a special part of the church family.

Our pastor does the children’s sermon in our congregation. A woman who is a teacher does it each week at the church where I’ve been preaching. I think it’s good to have a consistent voice or at least a small group of regulars. A children’s sermon is not a Sunday School lesson. It is one simple Gospel point, made briefly and lovingly by a friendly adult to a group of children.

I’d love to receive comments about the children’s sermon and how it works in your congregation.

They asked me to speak to the children this morning. You can read what I said to them after the jump.

Is there anyone here this morning that is seven years old? How about eight? This morning, I’m remembering a time when I was about seven or eight years old. When I was that age, my family went to a church in a building that was a lot like this one. It had been built a long time ago, long before I was born, and lots of moms and dad had brought their children to church for many years there.

Everywhere you looked, you could see and feel the beautiful old solid wood that they used for the pews and the doors. Before every worship service, someone would walk up front with one of those long golden poles and light the candles on the table where the Bible and sometimes some fresh flowers were placed. Here, feel the wood on this table.

When we sang, we were led by a lady who played the organ, and that was the only time anywhere that I heard the sound of that musical instrument. (Did you know that she plays it with her feet as well as her hands?) We had a choir too, in fact, our church was a little bigger and we had three choirs every week. There was the adult choir that sat in the front. Up in the balcony on this side was the teen choir, and over on this side, the children’s choir. They all wore bright robes of different colors and sang at different times in the service.

Our pastor always wore a robe too, usually a black one. When he came in at the beginning of the service, during the first song, he would always kneel very seriously at his chair, holding a large black Bible in his hand. Then he would get up and speak to us in a deep, rich voice, encouraging us to worship God and love one another.

One of the songs we sang this morning was my favorite hymn when I was seven or eight, “This Is My Father’s World. It has such a pretty melody and it talks about the birds and the trees and the grass and the skies. Since I loved to play outside so so much, it made me happy to know that God was with me everywhere.

My favorite thing about being there in church with my mom and dad was looking up and seeing the sunlight coming through the colors of the stained-glass windows. Just like in this building! It made me feel so peaceful inside. I felt that church must be a happy place, a place of warmth and brilliant light. And when that light shone down on all the people there, who were dressed in such nice clothes and sitting on those beautiful wooden pews, singing and praying together, listening to the choirs sing and the organ play and the pastor speak, I felt like I was in a special place, a place that felt like home, a place where I felt welcome.

My prayer for each one of you boys and girls is that you will always feel that way about being together with God’s family in church too. Jesus’ blessing is here for each and every one of you.

Let’s pray:

Heavenly Father,
Thank you for each one of these children.
Thank you for the joy they bring to their families and for the gifts they have for our world.
Help them to come to fully understand your special love for them in Jesus.
And may they always feel welcome and loved in your family.
In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

By Chaplain Mike

You have been reading posts about the Beatitudes this week. If you would like to hear my sermon from this morning on Matthew 5:1-12, you can do so using the player below.

This sermon is about 22 minutes long.

By Chaplain Mike

Below, you can listen to Chaplain Mike’s sermon, preached at a local Presbyterian church on 1/23/11. The Gospel reading for the day is Matthew 4:12-23.

Other texts we read in the service, supporting the message, were Isaiah 41:17-20, Acts 10:38, Ephesians 2:8-10, Titus 2:11-14.

Matthew 4:17, 23-25 (NASB)

From that time Jesus began to preach and say, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

…Jesus was going throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness among the people. The news about Him spread throughout all Syria; and they brought to Him all who were ill, those suffering with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, paralytics; and He healed them. Large crowds followed Him from Galilee and the Decapolis and Jerusalem and Judea and from beyond the Jordan.

By Chaplain Mike

Below, you can listen to Chaplain Mike’s sermon on John 1:35-42, preached at a local Presbyterian church on Sunday, Jan. 16.

John 1:35-42 (NASB)
Again the next day John was standing with two of his disciples, and he looked at Jesus as He walked, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.

And Jesus turned and saw them following, and said to them, “What do you seek?” They said to Him, “Rabbi (which translated means Teacher), where are You staying?” He said to them, “Come, and you will see.” So they came and saw where He was staying; and they stayed with Him that day, for it was about the tenth hour.

One of the two who heard John speak and followed Him, was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He found first his own brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which translated means Christ). He brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon the son of John; you shall be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

Story of the Life of Christ: Circumcision, Angelico

By Chaplain Mike

After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. (Luke 2:21, NRSV)

eighth day and the baby cries
hard tool cuts his flesh
fulfilling all demands
bleeding flesh by human hands

patriarch’s dream
the promised son
fulfilling all demands
spared in lieu of sacrificial ram

now on selfsame mount
is brought a newborn child
fulfilling all demands
little did we understand

this would not be the last time
hard tool would cut his flesh
fulfilling all demands
bleeding flesh by human hands

The Nativity, Backer

By Chaplain Mike

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

• Luke 2:1-7 (ESV)

Yesterday, we received a DVD of my all-time favorite film, Casablanca, for a Christmas present. It is filled with scenes that are iconic in the American movie lexicon, but none is more famous than the final scene. That’s when Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman stand in the fog on the runway tarmac and Bogart says, “I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that.” Shortly after those words, Bogart says, “We’ll always have Paris,” and “Here’s looking at you, kid,” and one of the most romantic, heart-tugging scenes ever made concludes.

“The problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.” You might excuse the world for writing those words over the Christmas story. However, the Gospel of Luke tells us that the ordinary, humble experiences of three little people in a small corner of the Roman Empire many years ago actually made all the difference.

A Humble, Ordinary Story Is Set on a Great Stage
The first verses of Luke 2 set the events of the first Christmas in a context that encompasses the entire world with its great people and history-making events. Jesus was born to Mary and Joseph in the context of world powers. The name of Caesar Augustus (Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus) would have evoked worldwide, even cosmic thoughts on the part of Luke’s first readers.

Augustus, the first emperor of Rome, had presided over an era of unprecedented peace and expansion in the empire. He brought to an end the civil wars that had plagued them for over a century, and Augustus was proclaimed, “The savior of the whole world.” One inscription honoring the Emperor asserted, “The birthday of the god [Augustus] marked the beginning of good news for the world.” Everywhere, he was honored as the ruler who had brought about the pax Romana—the peace of Rome. When he died in AD 14, the Roman Senate declared him a god, to be worshiped by all Romans.

So Caesar Augustus was worshiped as a god, proclaimed the world’s savior, the one whose birth, life and reign brought good news of peace to all the earth. Hmmm. Sounds familiar.

Luke also sets Jesus’ birth in the context of world proclamation. He tells how Caesar pronounced an edict that affected the entire world, a census that all citizens throughout the earth were to obey. A few years before this, a local governor named Quirinius of Syria (also mentioned in this passage) had proclaimed a census in the part of the world where Jesus was born. That registration had led to a Jewish revolt and the beginning of a rebellion known as the Zealot movement, which called for the violent overthrow of the Roman oppressors. In contrast to that census which provoked conflict between the Romans and Jews, in the Christmas story Luke emphasizes that Joseph and Mary obeyed the emperor’s subsequent decree and went to Bethlehem, where peace would be born.

What happened there would lead to a new proclamation that would go out into the whole world, announcing peace to Jews and Gentiles alike.

Nativity, Correggio

Ordinary People Experience a Humble Birth-Event
From one point of view, it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world of world powers and proclamations that go out into the whole world, affecting people everywhere. When two ordinary Jewish citizens named Joseph and Mary obeyed Caesar’s decree and made their way to Bethlehem to be registered in the census, it is certain that few noticed.

Events like the one that happened to them don’t make the news headlines. Caesar gets the press. Wars, politics, world finance, great accomplishments of industry—these are what we hear about day in and day out. In our day it’s the war in Afghanistan, the sword-rattling of North Korea, an unstable world economy, upcoming royal weddings, and events in the lives of celebrities and prominent people. Ordinary lives like ours and common events like a baby’s birth don’t usually get the media’s attention.

In Luke 2 we read of a man and a pregnant woman making a journey from one small town to another. Upon arrival, they are forced to take up lodging in an animal shelter because the local inn was full. The woman’s birth pains begin, and she has her baby there in that less than ideal setting. It’s a memorable family story, but not all that uncommon. After all, women give birth every day, often in unwelcoming circumstances. It wasn’t the setting or the birth itself that got anyone’s attention. To all appearances, it was a humble, ordinary affair. Luke records the story simply: “And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”

The Mystical Nativity, Botticelli

Though Humbly Born, This Is No Ordinary Child
It is a this point that Luke’s Christmas story moves from being the story of two common people who have a baby to something more. From what follows, Luke lets us know that the problems of three little people DO amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.

And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

• Luke 2:8-14

Notice the words and phrases Luke emphasizes in telling the story of Jesus’ birth. He highlights terms from the mythology and propaganda of Caesar Augustus, the great emperor of the Roman Empire, the one who got all the headlines in those days, applying them to the newborn baby in Bethlehem.

• His birth announcement is a “Gospel” (good news) for all people everywhere.
• He is proclaimed the “Savior.”
• He is acclaimed as the “Lord.”
• He is given divine approval and accolades by the heavenly host who announce that his coming will mean glory to God and peace to people on earth. The pax Romana (the Roman peace) has now become the pax Christi (the peace Christ brings).

Luke also links this event to the long story of Israel. There are significant references from the First Testament in Luke’s narrative that would have caught the attention of his Jewish audience.

• Micah 4:8 said that Israel’s King would be announced at Migdal Eder, the “Tower of the Flock”—“And you, O tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you shall it come, the former dominion shall come, kingship for the daughter of Jerusalem.” And so, the word comes first to shepherds tending their flocks outside Bethlehem.
• He recalls God’s promises to David, that one of his heirs will reign on the throne as Messiah (Christ).
• The baby was “wrapped in swaddling cloths.” This may recall Solomon’s words in the book of Wisdom: “I was nursed with care in swaddling cloths. For no king has had a different beginning of existence” (7:4-5). The Royal One came into the world just like other babies do.
• The manger may recall Isaiah 1:3—“The ox knows its master, the donkey its owner’s manger, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” The emphasis on the manger in Luke’s story may indicate that it is time for God’s people to return to the manger and her Master.
• Some have suggested that the “Gloria in Excelsis” said by the angels was a form of the “Sanctus” (Isa 6) that was prayed in the Temple at Jerusalem. If so, it is intriguing that, with Christ’s birth, the focus of worship has moved outside the Temple and the whole countryside is filled with praise.

By framing his story in these terms, Luke lets us know that the Child born on that first Christmas was no ordinary child, but the Promised One who would bring hope and salvation to Jew and Gentile alike. This is a baby whose humble, ordinary birth would change the world forever.

Adoration of the Shepherds, Bronzino

Ordinary, Humble People Receive the Good News
The final section of the Christmas story shows how the shepherds responded to the good news by going to Bethlehem, seeing and responding to Jesus.

I encourage you to read Jeff’s excellent post, “Losers Who Win” (12/16), to learn more about these shepherds and what they were like.

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.  And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

• Luke 2:15-20

What happened with regard to them and those around them is best seen in the verbs that are used in this paragraph.

• The shepherds went (with haste).
• They found.
• They saw.
• They made known the saying that had been told them.
• They returned.
• They glorified and praised God.

In addition, we see Mary “treasuring up all these things” and “pondering them in her heart.”

Together, that list is about as concise and comprehensive a description of a life captured by the Good News of Jesus that I have ever heard. I won’t take the time to unpack these verbs at this time, but I would encourage you to meditate upon them and ask God to teach you what it means to respond to the Christmas story as the shepherds and the Holy Family did.

Merry Christmas.

By Chaplain Mike

It was an ordinary night.

If you stop to think about it, how could it have been anything else? Days and nights proceed in a generally predictable fashion. Things happen in this world. Some of those things take your breath away, true, but most of the time even the most remarkable, awe-inspiring experiences we have are not unique to us, but are common to all people.

Babies are born every day, and people take their last breaths. Business people make and lose fortunes. Somewhere, someone’s jaw drops in awe at the sight of a perfect sunrise or sunset. Young men and women make love for the first time. A worker is hired for her first job, and an older man retires. People discover, in a hard conversation with a doctor, that they have serious health problems. Travelers get on buses, trains, and planes, truck drivers transport goods on their routes, policemen patrol their beats, and emergency workers respond when the alarms sound.  Somewhere, a young person reads a book and is carried by imagination into another land. This is the way of all flesh.

We wake up, take care of our personal hygiene, eat, drink, move about, work, play, interact with others. All over the world, our cultural differences aside, we approach life in remarkably similar ways. Human life proceeds along its ordinary paths day after day after day. It is an exceedingly rare day when the heavens open, the dove descends, and the Unseen One speaks. Most days, it’s just life.

On the day Jesus was born, how many other babies were born into this world? And what, if anything, would have looked different about his birth? If you and I had been there to witness it, I doubt that we would have observed anything other than the normal process that humans everywhere experience. Labor pains hurt. The grimaces on Mary’s face and her doubled-over frame would have testified to that. The anxiety on Joseph’s face would have been more than evident. The normal customs and procedures for childbirth in that day would have been followed, and everyone would be hoping and praying that mother and child would make it through, healthy and sound.

How long was her labor? We do not know. Did she scream in pain? I would guess she did. We can be sure there was water, blood, and mucus. Scratchy straw and blankets provided an imperfect bed. The pungent smells of farm animals, feed, and muck would have assaulted their nostrils in the cave or outbuilding where they were forced to stay. How many others were present to help? We don’t know, but given the culture of the day, we can assume that some women assisted Mary, and that the men who were there kept their distance and paced nervously while awaiting the outcome. Perhaps they tended a fire outside and heated some water to use in the birthing process.

Despite the cradle hymn we sing, the “little Lord Jesus” surely cried upon entering this life and sucking in the sharp air of that drafty room. And Mary then surely took her newborn to her bosom and comforted him. Joseph must have felt so close to his bride as they gazed in wonder at the sight. How many have treasured that intimate moment!

A man, a woman, and a baby—this is nothing but the ordinary course of life. How often has it happened in the history of the world? It can’t be that anything looked, sounded, or felt unusual that night. If you or I had been there recording the event, we would have captured ordinary people experiencing what folks have always known—anticipation, fear, pain, concern, intense effort, relief, exhilaration, peace. And love. Real human tears were shed. Perspiration dampened human skin and hair. Mother, father, and child lay together exhausted and serene.

It was all so normal, so natural, so ordinary. Now, it is certainly true that this particular couple had to overcome some unique circumstances—Mary and Joseph were away from their home, forced to have their baby in an unusual birthing room—but plenty of others have had to deal with situations that were less than ideal when it came time for a baby to be born. Would anyone there have suspected that this particular birth event was anything other than an ordinary family experience? I don’t see how. Mary and Joseph had inside information, of course, but there is no indication that they were talking about that with others at this point. I suspect that they themselves were still trying to come to grips with what it all meant.

What they experienced that night had nothing to do with angels, a Voice from the divine throne room, ethereal music filling the skies, or the appearance of a visible star-sign in the heavens. Despite our traditional way of combining the Christmas texts into manger scenes, no exotic royal guests arrived on camels with lavish gifts to lay before the infant’s bed. Despite the pious art that has so beautifully made visible the hidden significance of this birth story by picturing haloed characters in a stable aglow with the heavenly light of cherubim and seraphim, the actual experience was likely as raw and human and earthy as can be imagined.

It was just an ordinary night. A woman had a baby, and she and her husband were happy.

But then, as Mary, Joseph, and their newborn son lay together resting, they heard a commotion outside. Through the door burst a group of unkempt men, excitedly announcing that they had heard Good News from heaven.

And nothing was ever ordinary again.

Note from CM:

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!”

• Psalm 84:1

What is the dwelling place of the Lord?  It can be a Gothic cathedral, surging upward like flames, like trees drawing their strength from the ground and flowering into a hundred branches far overhead.  The stained glass scatters bright jewels of color on stone.  This building points upward, saying “Lift your eyes and look to the heavens:  who created all these?”  (Isaiah 40:26)

Or a Byzantine church, paradise not pointed to but enclosed, beneath the dome, within the arms of Christ Pantokrator.  A cloud of incense; a cloud of witnesses seen through the icons, the windows of heaven.

Or a Quaker meeting house, empty and clean, like a shell scoured by the sea.  Bare wood, plain lines restful to the eye, lit by the happy light pouring through windows.  Silence; peace.  How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts.

There is a tiny whitewashed church on a Greek hillside — a dome on a box.  A few candles flicker; their flames are reflected by small metal plaques hanging next to the icons.  The image on each plaque represents what the petitioner is praying for:  a child, a car, an arm.

The white light outside the church is blinding, glorious.  This Greek hillside is also God’s dwelling place.  “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.”  (Ps. 24:1) Surely he delights in the smell of thyme and sea as much as in incense; surely his presence is announced as compellingly by the dull clunk of sheep bells as by the clangor of a carillon.

Or a forest where light falls through the branches.  Or the immensity of plains or sea.  The strength of mountains.  Sky, sun, stars, and moon.  “If I go to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”  (Ps. 139:8-10)

But we are small, and we mostly don’t live in immensities.  On Sunday morning, we rejoice with those who say, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”  (Ps. 122:1) It’s a plain building, perhaps.  There are children crying, people wrestling with coats, doors opening and closing.  There may be no great artwork inside and only a tangle of city streets outside.  But our churches are built on a promise:  “Here I am!  I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” And we build the church so that we can open the door and he can come in.

In one church I saw only ugliness, not God.  There were no hangings, no stained glass, no windows or color or beauty.  The carpeted dais and the floor around it were a snakepit of electrical wires.  Duck tape disfigured floor and walls.  Empty water bottles lay here and there, and microphone stands stuck up randomly like snags in a swamp.  It had all the beauty of a field after the circus has left.  Where was God?

Then the people began to pour in.  Plain people, just parents with kids, teenagers, old people.  They were talking, laughing, even calling to each other as they took their seats, like a mob of gaudy parrots settling onto their perches.  And suddenly I really saw them:  they “are the temple of the living God.  As God has said, ‘I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.’”  (2Cor.6:16)

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!

In a mystery God already dwells among us — in our church buildings, in his creation, in the Church, and in each believer — yet we still await his Advent.  With John we pray, “Come, Lord Jesus.”  (Rev. 22:20) And God answers us, “’The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ — which means, ‘God with us’.”  (Matt. 1:22)

God with us.  How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts.